Roll Me Over Slowly
by rookieD
Summary: (One-shot) Tag to 2.13...'Sam is convinced she's going to tell him to go. Drive on without her. That there is no way in God's world that they can ever be normal together. She'll tell him that tonight has screamed out loud and clear those unifuckingversal signs are saying that this whole thing...her and him...it's a really. Really. Bad idea.'


_A/N: two birds, one stone. This responds to prompts from both radleyboo (aka sourgummysharks) and Becca who both alluded to the 2.13 ending and that whole 'normal' debacle. I wanted this to go differently, but this is how it came out._

_apologies in advance, I'm gonna go wash my brain out with fluff after this._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

She stands right there in the freezing cold for a full two minutes. Sam knows it's two minutes because he counts every second. All fucking 120 of them.

The only consolation is that lopsided, nervous smile is actually frozen to her face. It mirrors his.

Her eyes are shiny and her cheeks are blushed, but not the same variety they were when he had her under his hands.

Snow falls around her, 23 flakes melt into her hair.

Sam swallows. Tilts his head, asks the question again because he doesn't know what else to do. This time he only asks with his eyes.

Huffs of condensation float in the air with three heavy, hard breaths that she takes.

One tentative step forward, and then she's right near the truck.

Sam sets his jaw, pushes to the back of his brain the fact that she is using every muscle in her body to stop herself from looking backwards. Stop herself from caving in to either him, or the rest of the world.

Sure as shit, McNally is worried about the multiple sets of eyes that are on them right now.

Sam is convinced she's going to tell him to _go_. Drive on without her. That there is no way in God's world that they can ever be _normal_ together. She'll tell him that tonight has screamed out loud and clear those unifuckingversal signs are saying that this whole thing...her and him...it's a really. Really. Bad idea.

A slow, shaky hand pulls at the door.

It's Sam's.

It's the only other thing he can think of doing to convince her she's wrong. Bad idea maybe, but Sam has never, ever, ever had something so good in his life. He's not letting go of it now.

The second side of her mouth curls up as she takes another step in. "Normal, huh?" It's an impossibly small voice she uses, and so fucking young.

Sam's head bobs once, eyes locking McNally into a gaze. His throat won't work any more, a thousand brutal Brennan memories flushing through his vocal chords. Other parts of his body as well.

Sam wants to tell her he actually has no goddamn idea what _normal_ is. Wants to tell her he's probably not built for what she might want it to be.

Wants to tell her he wants her to be with him though; figure it out together until everything is just right.

She looks across at his hand. The one that's in a brace. Blinks at the thing like maybe the next second she opens her eyes this will all have been a bad dream.

Her eyes travel slowly, inspecting other parts of Sam. She's not going to see a whole lot from where she's standing, and until she makes some form of commitment, Sam won't be giving anything away.

"Want me to drive?" McNally's voice is the quietest soft, and a whole lot warmer than the rest of her body must be. "Let me drive for you, Sam."

There is a slow, painful burn that ebbs it's way through Sam's body. It starts at the back of his eye sockets and works it's way down. It picks it's pace up when it creeps into his chest, then stays in the pit of his stomach when it forces it's way there.

He grips the wheel tighter, wonders about which is safer; him driving, or her. In the end, he can't handle the thought of being in the passenger seat, but he'll do it. Figures she'll feel safer that way.

He takes off his seatbelt and tugs at the handle of the driver side door, steps himself on to ice. Lets out a dry laugh when he nearly loses his footing the second he's out.

They cross paths front and centre of the truck. They circle one another in the space of the headlights, conscious they're still being watched.

McNally catches his waist just before he gets out of reach, one careful gloved hand stopping him dead in his tracks.

They stand still in the spot at arms length, her fingers on his belt and holding him as though her life depended on it. "I do." She bites at her lip. "I do wanna try."

Sam holds on to a breath. He smiles small, puts the hand that's not battered on top of hers. "Me too, sweetheart." His voice has gone thick and throaty, but at least he managed each of the words. "Me too."

* * *

When they're in the truck, she's more like McNally. A bundle of ticks and preparations, an energy rolling off her in waves that seep into Sam.

He watches on amused as she takes three attempts to shift the seat forward, and another two to strap herself in. He grins as she adjusts the mirror and frowns into it as she catches sight of her face.

"What?" She half whines as she catches Sam watching. Then continues on to tuck some loose hair behind the pink rim of her ear.

"Nothin'" Sam responds, his grin growing bigger despite the fact his face hurts.

He continues to watch on, mesmerized.

She cranks up the windows and the heating, flicks at the radio and shakes her head at the first station that comes up. She finds some folk pop that seems to take her fancy and turns to Sam. Declares to him a little more confidently; "well, good. 'Cause _this_ is _normal_ you know. _I_ am _normal_."

Sam holds back a laugh. Because he knows it will hurt, mainly. But also because he's still unsure of what she might do. He's expecting her to turn around any second and jump out that door. '_Don't wanna go back_' maybe so, but. That was before they nearly got themselves killed.

He does keep smiling at her though. Can't help himself, really. His hands have been twitching to hold her ever since the last time they let go. Also: Sam is just plain ecstatic that 'Candace' didn't get herself dumped in the harbor, that McNally is every bit as smart as he thought, and managed to get them both home alive.

"Neither my dad, nor Traci really have the room for both of us..Not that...I mean. God. We shouldn't even be together. Frank's probably got someone tailing us. Gonna take our badges once and for all.. ." Andy babbles as she pulls the truck out from the curb, eyes fixed on the road and cold night in front of them.

"I..." Sam clears his throat to interrupt her, swallows a lump all the way down. "Just come home with me, Andy. Stay with me, okay?" Sam's voice is not exactly as calm as he'd like it, but he thinks she'll understand the sentiment. Thinks she'll get the gist that he wants them holed up in his house and making the most of everything they have left.

She gnaws at her bottom lip and glances in his direction, those big watery eyes. She swallows something in her own throat as she takes in Sam's expression. Then nods her head repeatedly, fast and furious like now she's resolved to breaking more rules.

* * *

They sit in the truck with the engine running for minutes outside his place. Both of them stare out at the blizzard and dark of the house.

"Gonna be a bit messy," Sam informs quietly. He thinks of how he left things in a hurry. Thinks of how the house is as underprepared as he is for...for _this_.

"S'okay, Sam." McNally reaches over and puts a shaky hand under his bicep. "I can help tidy things up."

Sam bites into the flesh inside his cheek. He is completely shocked by the fact that he actually is prepared to _let_ her do that.

* * *

They walk hand in hand to his doorway, the pair of them holding on tight. Their steps are heavy and slow into the crunch of the snow, but they're weirdly in synch from the start.

She stands just behind him when they finally reach the stoop; her small frame doing its best to shield him from the chill in the air.

Sam takes a couple of goes to unlock the door, fingers not exactly shaking, but still not as sure as every other time he's entered his house.

* * *

It's only when they're inside with the door shut behind them that Sam lets another breath out.

McNally stands with her back to the door, eyes bouncing about the place and those cheeks pink as Sam's seen.

He licks at his lip to give it some moisture, leans his body across hers to switch on some lights.

Her breath comes hot and thick across Sam's face as he does it, even though her head thuds hard back on the door.

Sam stays in the spot for a moment or two, testing. Both of them have gone all the way coy and nervous...despite all that's...happened...between them...up to this point.

* * *

Sam puts his hands up either side of her, cages her in.

His stomach churns as he watches her eyes never quite settle on to his.

She peers over his shoulder at the dark stairwell, then her eyes bounce back and land on his chest.

(First time he bought her over here after the blackout she couldn't take her eyes off the floor; followed three steps behind him straight to the kitchen, and then ate pretty much everything he had in the fridge).

The next thing Sam knows, McNally's hands are on the front of his waist; so light and delicate, they're barely touching him. He can feel the tremor in her fingers though, can sense that something is about to go down -

She shakes her head as she continues to stare into Sam's middle, shifts from foot to foot. It's a small sniff that gives away the fact she's crying, and then a hot tear that leaks onto his shirt.

Sam drops his arms slowly, deliberately does not wince through the shift of blood through his body. He rests his hands on her shoulders, gentle as he can. "Andy," he whispers - barely audible. Moves his fingers up her neck and to her cheeks, doing his best not to touch the brace to her skin. "Look at me, sweetheart."

Sam rubs a thumb under each eye as her face tilts up. The look on her is heartbreaking. Scared, angry and beautiful, and so fucking sad.

"I..." McNally's chest heaves through a few ragged breaths. "I...nearly got you killed, Sam." She's in this wild, wild state, McNally is all of a sudden - like maybe seeing him under the lights has done that. Desperately trying to hold back tears, and looking beyond angry with herself. "I bet he hurt you so bad," she spits out eventually, eyes frantic again as her gaze bores across Sam's body almost burning holes in his clothes.

Sam can't handle the thought of her blaming herself for what happened with Brennan. But he simply doesn't have the energy to form the sentences that he thinks might make things better for her.

Instead, Sam leans in and kisses anything else she might be thinking of saying, right out of her mouth.

He doesn't close his eyes as he watches hers flutter shut. He just keeps his mouth on hers, licks in a little when her hands slide painfully slow and delicate up to his chest.

"We were stupid," he tells her carefully, pulling his mouth away a couple of millimeters and breathless. "But what happened...not your fault." He bumps his nose and keeps it there, waits until she opens her eyes.

Sam wants to tell her that every second he endured with Brennan was worth it, anyway. If he died today, he died having had those moments before with her. Would've died knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her -

He doesn't tell her that, though. He knows it will only upset her more. So, instead, he reaches his good hand around the back of her skull, threads his fingers into her hair and holds her face tilted up.

He speaks against her lips, ragged but soft, quiet as he can. "Glad you found me at The Alpine. Glad you knew where to look for me tonight. Glad you're here now."

Her eyes blink shut for a long ten seconds. She is quiet and unmoving for the longest Sam's ever known.

When she opens her eyes, they're glistening with tears still, but this time they focused on Sam's. "Me too." Her voice is barely a whisper either, but it's the second best thing Sam's heard all night.

They stand at the door like that for minutes. Staring at one another and just breathing, careful hands holding on to one another, and another soft kiss on the mouth.

* * *

When they finally move, it's at a snails pace again. Side by side, a step at a time, the floorboards practically fucking cheer at each one.

* * *

He guides them into the kitchen, flicking some more lights as they go. When he's satisfied he can see McNally properly like this, he motions for her to get up on a stool.

Sam scratches at his chest, ignores the pain whenever he brushes over a bruise. "You hungry?" He's got zero to nothing to feed them with. Pasta will be in the pantry, but it's not like he had the chance to do groceries between Brennan and now.

McNally's eyes go comically wide. No doubt she's drawing the same conclusions as Sam. She's about to be _considerate_ and he knows it. _Jesus_. She'll probably starve herself for the next three months if it means Sam won't have to shop. But. If she's feeling anything like Sam is, she's got to be needing something in her stomach right now.

"I'll go get us some takeout," she blurts at him, thumbs hitched over her shoulder and feet getting back on the ground.

Sam shakes his head, spots his mobile phone on the bench and has a better idea. "Not letting you go anywhere in that weather, McNally."

He reaches for his phone, raises his eyebrows way the hell up when she launches herself across the bench and swipes at his hand. "I'll, um. I'll ring for takeout then. I wanna do it. Let me do it, Sam."

Her voice has gone pitchy and whiny now, a far cry from that somber tone she had just minutes ago. Sam chokes out a laugh and stares her down, holds tight to his phone. "Not an invalid, McNally. I think I can manage a phone call to order us a capricciosa or two."

She rushes around the bench, snatching at Sam's uplifted hand. "See. No. Just no, Sam. I can't stand anchovies, okay."

She's seriously the cutest thing Sam's ever seen the way she's going after him without even touching. She's scared of bumping one of his broken ribs or something clearly, but it's not stopping that look of determination she gets.

Or the persistence. It's definitely not stopping that infuriatingly endearing tenacity that McNally gets happening when she wants something real bad.

Sam manages to get his hand behind his back, forcing McNally to wrap her arms around him to get what she wants. "This normal too?" Sam asks with a quiet tease. If he leans forward another inch, he can kiss into her hair -

"I can make the call, I know the joint up the road. I know their menu real well. I got this okay. But you need to give me your phone."

Sam scrunches up his forehead and narrows his eyes. The thing Sam has finally deduced: McNally's little fit here hasn't got as much to do with pizza selection as what she's letting on. He gives her some heat with his glare, shuffles her backwards to get her pinned at the bench. "Reason you want _my_ phone in particular, McNally?"

She gets a pretty blush all over. Well, as much as Sam can see. She does a half whine, half groan at him, but also develops a smile Sam likes a whole lot. If he had the strength and energy, he'd get her up on the bench and find a way to keep the smile there-

"I, um. I...ugh. I maybe may have left you a message before you went with stupid Boyd. You know." She shrugs up and down, restless and nervous. "After you nearly kissed me at the fire truck. When I thought we might've had a few weeks-"

Sam's jaw drops part the way open. He takes a close look at her face and the kind of blush that's stuck itself there. He licks his way across his bottom teeth and leaves his tongue way up the back. He gets himself impossibly closer to her, breathes right down her neck. "You wanted to come get that kiss, huh?"

Andy groans, flops herself forward - forgetting any pain she might inflict. She hides her face in Sam's neck and giggles. It's a sound that turns Sam the rest of the way on.

"Yes, okay. God." She whines into him. "I figured we were both up to the page where we finally, _finally_ do something about...about..." She pushes her way off him, rolls her neck, then her eyes; "you know." Andy gets her hands flapping between them and turns her voice so the neighbors won't hear; "ussss."

Sam's face breaks into a grin as soon as she manages to look back at him. "Ussss, huh?" He gives her some high eyebrow. "You tellin' me the message you left is even more explicit than what you let on?"

(First night she went back to Sam's cover apartment, McNally told him she tried to call him back then. Told him while he fucked into her slowly that she wanted him three weeks ago -

Told him the second go around that she'd wanted him for longer than that).

McNally swats at Sam's shoulder friendly, and giggles all nervous again. "Ugh. Shut up."

"I'm gonna save this message," he nods. "For the rest of my life." Sam winks at her as she blushes some more and laughs clear in his face.

* * *

Two kinds of pizza and a whole bunch more giggles alternating between tears for McNally later, Sam finally convinces her upstairs and into bed.

The pair of them are working from pure adrenalin as they strip down slowly, a lamp the only light in the room.

McNally has to help Sam with his jeans, the painkillers wearing off and leaving his whole body barely able to move.

She keeps her eyes on places he's taken the biggest beating, including his face. Purses her lips together to stop herself crying so fucking often and tight, Sam thinks she might break.

"You got any more pills you can take?" She asks finally, her voice pretty wrecked.

Sam nods. "Just...not...not yet. Okay?" Whether she thinks it's a good idea or not, Sam wants to get himself inside of her. Wants to end this day making love to her, make it clear and definite, they're both still alive.

"Sam." Her voice goes soft and cautious as he nudges her toward the bed and then climbs alongside.

She twists and turns between the sheets and gets herself comfortable, ends up on her back. Sam grazes some knuckles over the top of her as he eases his body down onto the mattress using one elbow and one knee.

When he's finally down there and facing her, he gets his good hand in her hair. He kisses at the top of her forehead. "Want this to be 'bout you and me. Not Jamie Brennan. Okay?"

Sam feels McNally's eyelashes flicker, feels her lips on his chin as she nods.

She scoots close as she can into Sam, takes the hand he's got in her hair and locks their fingers together. Slides them both to her chest. Sam can feel the rabbit fast thump of her heart as she tells him with a couple more kisses; "Always 'bout you and me. Always, Sam."

He kisses back at her a little sloppy, runs his fingers sideways so he can get at her breasts.

Her legs butterfly all the way open as he runs his thumb across the nipple she's got closest to Sam.

He kisses at the top of her ear, casts his eyes down over her as her whole body reacts to the way his cock just rubbed at her leg.

He's been hard for a while now is the thing; the way she started giggling and blushing in the kitchen was already working him up. Still -

The only way it's not going to actually kill him with pain when he pushes is to get her on her side, but let her do most of the work.

She gets the hint quick and without Sam telling her, shuffling upward until her hips are lined up. She rolls her body gently 'til it's basically halfway to the recovery position, but keeps her face right next to Sam's.

Sam slides his hand slow and steady as he can over those taut curves she's pushing his way. He pets down her ribs and her stomach just gentle, then strokes his fingers all the way into where she's so warm, soft, and wet.

(First time he got her naked it shocked him a little, how she bucked herself at him gasping before he'd barely done anything except kiss her and put her down on his bed).

* * *

She nudges her ass back into him now, opens herself up some more and gets one of her hands under there to hold his cock where she wants.

"Andy," Sam croaks at her, a little helpless as everything between them gets slippery and hot.

"Uh-huh," she mutters between some hard breaths into Sam's cheek. "Tell me how to make it okay."

Sam huffs out some air in a poor attempt at a laugh. McNally's hips are working over time, rubbing every part of herself over his cock.

"Just..take it slow and easy, sweetheart," he manages to strangle out eventually. "And, uh." Sam swallows, feeling a little ridiculous about how much he wants to be a part of her right now. "Let me...let me work my way in."

Andy reaches her arm up and around to get her hand at the back of Sam's head. She nods, body stretching in every direction as far as it can. She sighs as the head of his cock tips inside.

"That's it, pretty girl." Sam kisses the edge of her mouth, keeps his eyes open as she arches her back and angles herself to try take him further in.

He pets back up her side, cups at a breast and plucks at her nipple gently, earning a bite on the jaw from McNally, and her moaning his name out some more.

Sam pushes inside inch by careful inch, breathing shallow to try ease the pressure that burns every muscle and bone inside of him. He knew his body would struggle to cope with certain movement, but in terms of pain, this is nothing short of exquisite. Every nerve, every muscle, every bone is on fire.

He kisses at the edge of McNally's mouth some more. Thinks about endless days and nights he'll spend recovering from the beating he took.

He pushes some more, working his way into the tight clench of her body. Thinks about how everything will be lighter with her here. Her laugh and her smile in the mornings after the nights he shakes off nightmares. Her being bossy and demanding to look after him, even after the physical scars have healed.

He moves the hand that's in the brace and shifts it in the rough vicinity of her clit. Guesses he got it right when she hisses, pushes herself into the friction on reflex and then lets out a yelp. "Shit. Sam. Sorry, I.."

He quiets her with another kiss, this time messy with some of his tongue. "Want as much of you as I can get..." He mutters before he's pulled his face off hers.

Sam braces himself against the shock winding it's way through his body. "Want you, Andy...just you," he mashes his face into the back of her salt, sweaty neck. Holds on as best as he can as she grips him some place that's impossibly deep.

"Sam," McNally turns her neck as far as she can to face him. "Kinda scared 'bout how _much_ I want you sometimes."

Sam's whole being is about to spiral out of control, but he holds on. Just wants to be here with her, holding her. Having her. Letting her have him...two years of fighting it, come to an end. He nods, knows what she's talking about and can't help but be a little more worried because of her fear.

"You okay?" She pants at him, arching herself further and rubbing at his brace cautiously as the rest of her continues to grip.

He kisses her hair, almost unable to answer. "Yeah. You?"

"God. Sam. Yeah...I just..."

Sam pushes as hard as he can, cutting off whatever other doubt she might put in his head.

The pain rips through his body at the same time as the ecstasy. All of that happening in tandem as McNally writhes all around him and screams out his name.

* * *

As Sam comes down, McNally's fingers are featherlight over his body.

She's pulled herself off and turned around to face him, wide eyes inspecting any damage that might've been done.

Her voice and eyes are back to watery too. "You okay? You okay? You okay?" She keeps asking, desperately looking for signs.

"You're here." Sam breathes out, eventually; "M'okay."

* * *

Sam wakes early morning; a steady stream of light just cracking through his window, and McNally still stretched out and asleep on his bed.

His body is as stiff and sore as it's ever been. His head hurts a little too. He wonders what the hell they're going to do with themselves these next couple of months-

Aside work on getting him healed.

"Hey," he tells her in a morning voice as she blinks those pretty eyes part the way open.

She's face planted on the pillow; her eyes in his direction, and long, muscly body right up against Sam's.

"Hey." She gives him a crooked smile; half blindingly happy by the looks of it, but also more than concerned.

She trawls her eyes down the view she can get of his body. Stops to stare long and hard at his ribs.

"I'm gonna get up. Gonna go get some supplies." She reaches some careful fingers across and hovers them just above purple and blue. "Gonna get you coffee and breakfast and whatever you want."

Sam grins over at her, raises his eyebrows. "Whatever I want, huh?"

She gets herself up on her elbows and smiles down at him. "Whatever you want."

He reaches up with the hand that isn't throbbing, untangles a knot in her hair. "Already told you what I want, McNally."

* * *

The next time Sam wakes up, it's to some banging coming from the kitchen; cupboards opening and closing, plates and cutlery being taken out by the sounds.

Sam scrubs a hand over his face and laughs a little. He should've already guessed he was in for a lifetime of loud.

* * *

"Still cold out," she whispers tiptoeing into his room 15 minutes or so later.

She's holding a tray of coffee cups in one hand, brown paper bag in the other.

"You, ah. Find everything in the kitchen you needed...to put this spread on." Sam smirks, teasing. Loosely gestures with his braced hand.

"Shut up," she snorts, laughing lightly. She places the breakfast items on the bedside table. Climbs over the top of Sam real careful, kisses at his mouth on the way. "Got enough supplies to last you a week."

Sam rubs a the heel of his hand into his eye, stomach just having swooped. "'N what about you?" He probes, careful. "What are you gonna eat?"

McNally's mouth twitches as she looks back at him, all kinds of nervous again like Sam doesn't like. They sit so fucking still and silent for the next three minutes that Sam thinks she might implode.

"I can't stay here, Sam," she informs him; quietest thing she's said to him ever. "We'll both lose our jobs." She nestles herself into the crook of his arm. "You know what we were told."

Sam clenches his jaw, throat going dry and scratchy. "Nobody has to know, McNally." He huffs out a breath and looks at her. "They don't have to know."

She sits upright again, fussing with a sheet that's tangled beneath her. "What about all our friends...and my dad... you're family." She blinks a few times, bites at her lip. "We can't hide from everyone. And it wouldn't be fair. To them. Or to us."

Sam looks up at the ceiling. He knew he was fighting a losing battle with this before they got started, he just really _hoped_ -

He nods slowly. "So. What's your plan now, McNally?" The word that's nestled in the middle leaves an off taste in the air.

She shrugs. "I got a message that I've still got a shot to finalize my mortgage. Can go sort that toilet factory apartment you know all about."

Sam chews into his lip, looks her way eventually and gives her a small smile.

He continues to listen as she itemizes the rest of her to do list. Feels some consolation that he's in there somewhere.

"I'll come by, make sure you're okay. And when you're feeling better...when we've got our badges back...we can start up properly...go on some dates and be together as much as we want to..."

Sam nods his head again slowly, agrees because that's what she wants. He sets his jaw and looks up at her, feels completely exhausted again. "Sounds like a plan, McNally."

* * *

When he kisses her goodbye after midday, he suspects it could be the last time he sees her for a while.

His chest hurts when she buries her face in his neck and tells him; "I'll see you real soon."

* * *

There are messages and emails from her two days later.

Rambling things that tell him she just couldn't stay in town and not see him and be with him all of the time. She tells him to look after himself, to take care and make sure Oliver and Jerry drop by as much as they can.

She tells him how much he means to her, how much she wished she could stay...

Sam doesn't reply. Doesn't have any words that can say it's okay.

All Sam knows is that the ache he has from missing McNally is a thousand times more excruciating than anything the Jamie Brennan's of the world could ever level his way.

If this is _normal_, Sam doesn't much like it at all.


End file.
